Dark Redemption
by Lady Meda
Summary: The untold story of one of Brother Justin's maids. Warning: this fanfic includes themes of non-consent, mind control, violence, strong language, blasphemy, demonic possession, and the like. Justin/OC Pairing. This is my first published fanfiction, so ratings/reviews are greatly appreciated.


Rating: MA/NC-17  
Pairing: Brother Justin/Original Character.  
Warnings: This story contains adult content, with heavily reluctant/nonconsentual sex. It also has undertones of violence, mind control, demonic possession, humiliation, bondage, etc.  
Disclaimer: I do not own Carnivale or any of its characters, nor do I make money on this fiction.

"After dinner, he enjoys a glass of sweet tea while he reads his scripture." Mary had been working in the Crowe household for nearly two weeks now, and yet Iris still felt the need to reiterate everything to her on a daily basis. She was beginning to think Iris was a bit touched.

"Yes ma'am, I understand. I will go prepare it." She walked to the kitchen and pulled the jar of tea from the warm window sill. The sun felt revitalizing. It had been some time since she'd had a proper night's sleep. She feared what her mind did when left to its own devices. The dreams... It was as though she was not even safe with her eyes open anymore. Even then, these sinful phantasms crept into her head; each one was more perverse, more... depraved than the last. She shook her head as if to clear away her worries, and did her best to concentrate on retrieving a glass and straining the tea through a cheese cloth. Focus was the key. She mustn't daydream.

A warm breeze danced like the softest fingertips across her neck. "You are a gift." She felt breath, hot and moist, as someone hissed softly in her ear. Mary let out a startled gasp and spun about. Ten feet away on the opposite end of the kitchen, stood Brother Justin.

"What?" She asked, somewhat breathless.

"You are a gift to me, child." He said as he approached her. "You take such good care of me" He recounted with his usual, inviting smile. She could feel her face growing flush. Sometimes it was so difficult to look him in the eyes. She turned to finish her task and hide her crimson face, but as she did, her hand met with something hard and warm. A deafening crash echoed off the tile, and she could do nothing but survey what used to be his sweet tea as it trickled along the grout.

"Oh no! Your tea! I'm so sorry, Brother." She wasn't sure if her face could get any hotter.

"Well then," He started. "You will just have to substitute my sweet tea... with sweet company. Join me in the study when you've finished cleaning up, and we will read together."

Mary scooped the last of the glass into the bin and wiped her hands on her apron. Reading scripture with Brother Justin did not seem like much of a punishment to her. But she most certainly wouldn't complain. Truly he was a kind-hearted, saintly man. Every day she felt blessed to be in his presence. She entered the study to find him in his usual chair, book already in-hand. He always looked so ethereal when he read; the picture of serenity. She approached him, and he looked up at her with a soft smile.

"Come," He said, gesturing to the stool at his feet. "Sit with me." She did as instructed. It was very close to him. The hem of his robe brushed her knees. It seemed rude of her to sit so close, but could prove insulting for her to move away. He seemed not to notice her closeness and began to speak, so she stayed put. "I was just enjoying the words of St. John." he said, and began to read from his book.

"After these things, Jesus walked in Galilee: For he would not walk in Jewry, because the Jews sought to kill him..." He was a wonderful speaker. His words were calm but passionate, and utterly hypnotic. "... For there is no man that doeth any thing in secret, and he himself seeketh to be known openly. If thou do these things, show thyself to the world..." She watched him read and was entranced, letting his words take her to a place of red sands and bustling streets.

"...In the last day, that great day of the feast, Jesus stood and cried, saying; 'If any man thirst, let him come unto me and drink'..." Brother Justin glanced down at her as he spoke; and the whole of his eyes looked black as coal in the flicker of the candlelight. Her entire body stiffened, and her breath stayed trapped in her lungs. He was almost sneering. "...she that believeth on me, as the scripture hath said, out of her belly shall flow rivers of living water." A throbbing pulse awakened below her abdomen, and she felt a warmth of fluids flooding from her, wetting her skirts. A pant escaped her lips as she looked abashed at her lap. Embarrassed, she swiveled on her seat and put her back to him, trying to escape his ebony gaze. Surely this was more of her imaginings.

"Are you quite alright, child?"

"Fine!" She squeaked, surprised that any words came out at all.

"Shall I continue?" He asked. She nodded to him over her shoulder, and so he continued to read. She tried to focus on his words, closing her eyes and trying desperately to picture again the sands and the streets: anything but her vivid, waking delusions. "And early in the morning he came again into the temple. He sat down and taught all the people..." But the throbbing at her core continued like a drum beat, making it difficult to think of anything else. She barely noticed when the pastor's robes brushed against her back. Mary felt his hand stroke her head.

" And the scribes and Pharisees brought unto him a woman, taken in adultery..." In a flash, her necklace tightened brutally around her throat, pulling her into him; the edge of her cross pricking at the side of her neck. A drop of blood rolled from the wound. He took her by the neck and shoved her down, bending her over the little stool. She tried desperately to scurry away, but his grip held her fast. Brother Justin's voice had become a growl. "... and when they had set her in the midst, they said unto him..." He grabbed roughly at the hem of her skirt, yanking it onto her back, nearly tearing it from her body. The hand around her throat was then forced over her mouth, smearing her own blood across her lips. "... Master, this woman was taken in adultery, in the _very act_." He ran his hand up her calf, up her thighs, and then wedged it between them; pressing roughly against the wetness between her legs. Her scream was smothered behind his immense hand.

She gasped, taking in air as if she had not breathed in minutes. The sound echoed through the room. Brother Justin looked up from his bible, startled. Mary wiped furiously at her face and neck; but her hands came away clean. There was no blood.

"What has gotten into you tonight, my child?" Justin asked, tilting his head. She sat dumbfounded, mouth agape.

"I... uh. I thought there was a spider." She said meekly, saying the first thing that came to mind. "Please excuse me, Reverend. I am suddenly not feeling well." She jumped to her feet, nearly tripping on her dress, and rushed out of the room. She fled to the sanctuary of her bedroom, shut the door, and sank to the floor. She couldn't take it any longer. These delusions kept happening, and with each one, she felt more vile and ashamed of herself for thinking such impure things about her beloved, pious Brother Justin. They were becoming more frequent, and it was now difficult to tell the difference between fantasy and reality. She felt as if her very presence defiled his good name. She had to get out before she went mad. If anyone knew, they would lock her up and throw away the key.

As night fell and she could hear the subtle snores echoing from the adjacent rooms, she snuck quietly out her door, doing her best to keep her luggage from bouncing off the walls. She glided down the stairs with her softest steps, and out of the house. It was only 7 miles to the nearest town. Mary figured she could reach it before daybreak.

She snuck along the side of the house, and said a silent prayer as she crept by Brother Justin's window. All was dark and quiet within. It was all she could hope for that he and Iris wouldn't think too ill of her for leaving so hastily and without an explanation.

She rounded the corner to the ally between the side of the house and the car park, and walked head-first into the solid mass of a person. A small part of her hoped that it would be Brother Justin, telling her she mustn't leave. But as she jumped back, she was met with the face one of their handymen. One of her bags slipped from her grasp and fell to the ground with a flop.

"Beg pardon, Miss." He said, as startled as she was. He looked at her more closely and his brow furrowed. "Hey, ain't you the Crowes's maid?" He asked, eyeing her bags.

"Where ya goin' so late?" She could see the gears turning in his head. A few moments passed, and the hint of a grin crossed his face. He took a step towards her, and she began to feel very uncomfortable.

"Away." She said bluntly. "Now if you will excuse me, I must be on my way." She tried to push past him, but as she did, the man caught her by the arm.

"Do Mr. and Ms. Crowe know yer leavin'?"

"What buisness is it of yours?" She retorted angrily, trying to free her arm from his grasp. "Yes they do, if you must know." She lied, holding her head high, doing her best to show she wasn't afraid. He seemed to contemplate this for a moment, and his grin widened.

"I think your lyin'. I think your sneakin' off while they sleep." He said, pushing her backwards. "With two bags full of their belongin's, no doubt." He snatched the second bag from her hands and tossed it aside.

"That's not true! They will exile you for the way you are manhandling me!" She exclaimed. But her empty threat fell on deaf ears. Her back found the side of the house, and she could feel the entire length of his body pressing her into the wall. His breath was sticky against her lips. It smelled of cigarettes and cheap bourbon.

"Nah, I think I'm the only one that knows your here." He said. "Do you know what we do with liars and thieves, Miss?" She tried to shove him off, but he caught her wrists and held them with one muscled hand above her head. "We steal from them..." He said, half panting, half sniffing along her neck. "like they was gonna steal from others." He reached up and grabbed one of her breasts.

"Let me go!" She cried. "No good will come of this!" He laughed in her face. His hand fell from her breast and began to lift her skirt.

"Oh, I think plenty of good'll come of this, Miss." He pressed his lips to hers, tongue fighting for entrance into her mouth. She shook her head violently to escape it. And out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimmer of black and white cloth, rippling in the moonlight at the end of the alleyway. The handyman began kissing down her neck, making his way to her bosom. She turned her head to catch sight of what she thought she had seen. And there walked Brother Justin, glowing like a dark angel in the starlight. Their eyes met, and she whimpered:

"Please help me! Oh God, please help!"

In a blur, he was there. The weight of the man was lifted from her in a flash, and she watched in awe as Brother Justin lifted him clear off the ground by his neck. The man's eyes filled with fear at the sight of her dark savior. He tried to speak, but could only make a terrible gurgling sound. Brother Justin leered at him with intense focus, and the man began to cry. But they were not tears. It was blood that now leaked from his eyes and mouth. Justin let go of his throat, and the man fell unceremoniously to the floor. She watched in horror as he lay there convulsing; until a final wave of blood bubbled from his throat and he went limp.

She was shaking violently. Her mind did not want to comprehend what was happening. Only in her nightmares could she imagine her sweet Pastor being capable of such violence. But this was no dream. Brother Justin approached her with an outstretched hand. She recoiled from it as if it burned.

"Its alright." He said. "You are safe now." His words seemed to rouse her from her stupor. She looked at him, her salvation, her angel, and dove into his arms. He embraced her, pressing her face into his breast. She stayed there, never wanting him to let her go. Her mind raced with the thought of what might have happened if he had not come to her aid. It was almost too much for her to bear. She began to weep into his cassock. He held her firmly in his arms, letting her snivel. It was some time before he spoke. When he did, it was with great sadness.

"Look at what you have made me to do." He said. "This man's life has been forfeit at the hands of his own Reverend." he said, his words laden with remorse. Something in his voice made her blood run cold.

"He was fixing to have his way with me." She stammered, hiding her face in the folds of his robe. "You saved me." Brother Justin gave a heavy sigh.

"That man was one of my flock. His family is part of my flock." His comforting grip on the back of her neck tightened like the talon of a great eagle. "Look at what you asked me to take from them." He thrust her forward by her scruff, to face the lifeless form at her feet. "LOOK AT HIM." he commanded in a tone of pure ice. She was helpless to do anything but stare into the corpse's milky, unseeing eyes and quiver. "Those eyes will never see their children again." He lamented. "What will their mother tell them what he doesn't come home? She will have to look into their frightened faces and tell them through her sobs that their father is with God now."

"But he-"

"But what? Would you be so cruel as to tell her why you wanted her husband dead? Or perhaps you would like ME to defile the children's memory their father." He held her there, voiceless and shivering, for what felt like an eternity. When he spoke next, she felt his warm breath whisper in her ear. "Was your honor worth this man's life? Was it worth wrenching out his children's little hearts?"

"P-Please brother, I... I never wanted... I never meant for you t-to... to kill-"

"How DARE you stand here and lie in the face of God!" His voice boomed in her ears. He spun her around to face him, his talons gripping deep into the flesh of her arms. In his fury he appeared to grow before her eyes. Everything but him seemed to fade into the darkness, as if his black robes were devouring the very moonlight around them. Her head was spinning. She felt as though she would faint. "You must take me for a FOOL to believe you wished no ill-will on that man!" Every ounce of strength drained from her legs. She fell to her knees at his feet. "You prayed in your heart-of-hearts that this man should suffer!" His voice roared with a might that shook the very ground beneath her. "CONFESS IT!" Tears rolled freely down her cheeks. She could scarcely breath.

"I... I... I don't know." She pleaded. "I did not mean to prey for such things!" she gasped. "P-Please Brother, forgive me." She trembled with fear and shame before him.

"And look what your sinful prayers have done." He chastened, pointing at the body beside her. "This is the terrible cost of your pride." The blood pounded fiercely in her ears until she could no longer hear his words. The darkness crept in closer and closer around her as she struggled to breath through her sobs. She began to hyperventilate, and with a final exhale, her mind fell into oblivion.

Mary stirred as the glistening sunlight danced over her face. She opened her eyes to find herself in her bed, dressed in her night-clothes. She had the distinct feeling this was not where she fell asleep. Her mind felt very foggy.

Brother Justin's warm voice broke her thoughts. "Ah, awake at last." He was sitting in a chair by the door, bible in hand, reading glasses sitting low on his regal nose. He removed them and set them and the Good Book aside.

"How did I get here?" She asked, trying to clear the haze from her mind.

"You fainted. Iris was kind enough to dress you and make sure you were... untarnished." Mary studied him with confusion. "Do you not remember, child?" As she looked into his eyes, the memories of the night before rushed back in a wave of overwhelming clarity. She gasped, sitting up with a jolt.

"Oh no. Let it not be true! I am so sorry, Brother!" She clamored frantically. "Please, please forgive-"

"Shhhh" He cooed as he came to sit by her side on the bed. He took her hands in his and pressed them together, as if to prey. "All is forgiven." An instant wave of relief washed over her; but even as her body relaxed against the headboard, a heavy stone of trepidation persisted in the pit of her stomach. "Something else concerns me, though." said the pastor, and the stone in Mary's stomach did a somersault. "What were these doing with you?" he asked, gesturing to her luggage. "Were you leaving us that night?" The look on his face was one of worry... and of hurt.

She wanted more than anything to tell him that it wasn't true; that she would stay as long as it pleased him. But she knew in her heart that she could never ask him to understand the terrible, sinful things she imagined. Especially after the ordeal she had put him through last night, she could only imagine the look of disgust on his face if he found out. He was such a good, pure man. The shame of it was more than she could stand to think about.

"I'm so sorry sir. I don't want to go, but..." Her voice trailed off as a fresh wave of tears rolled down her face.

"Then why? What would make you sneak away in the night?" She cast her eyes away, unable to meet his stern, beautiful gaze. Her mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. "Oh Mary... you haven't been seduced by a gentleman's trickery, have you?"

"No! No sir. I swear it with all my heart!"

"Then what , child?" He lifted her chin and looked deep into her eyes. His focus was so intense, she felt as if he could see her very soul; and for a moment she feared that her eyes would betray her, and spill the secrets of her deepest fears and desires.

The corner of Brother Justin's mouth raised ever so slightly; and as he looked at her now, with a hint of a smirk, her heart skipped a terrified beat. He leaned in ever closer to her, the tips of their noses touching, and whispered "What are you afraid of?", his voice as velvety-smooth as his breath as it danced across her lips. His fingers tendrilled around her throat as he pushed her back against the headboard, and she felt the length of his moist tongue slowly lick a tear off her cheek...

And then the vision was gone. He sat with furrowed brow once again, holding her chin and searching her eyes for answers. "What are you afraid of, child?" The only thing left of her daydream was the abominable wetness that leaked onto her thighs.

"I can't... Please don't ask me to tell you." He continued to look at her, dissecting her, until she thought she would burst under the weight of his gaze.

"You are very special to me, Mary. Do you realize that?" He pulled her into a firm, comforting embrace, pressing her face against his chest. "Whatever it is, I will protect you. But right now I must protect you from yourself. You are not going anywhere. Your place is here." His voice was so calm, so consoling. She wanted so much to stay protected in his arms forever.

"I was very hard on you last night." Again, the knot in her stomach made itself known. "Perhaps I was unfairly hard. I can't help but want to keep you from harm. And sometimes a Shepard must fight off the wolves. But..." He wrested her from the warmth of his embrace and took her firmly by the shoulders. "I fear for you... for your soul, Mary. Pride is a terrible sin; and you are so full of pride. I must cure you of this, or it will be your damnation." His grip tightened. "Do you understand?" He asked with a firm shake.

"I-I understand, sir. I wish nothing more than to serve you- To serve our Lord." He smiled, his face softening once again.

"Good." He kissed her forehand as he rose from the bed, and started for the door. "You are one of the most treasured of my flock. God has a greater purpose for you. I will do everything in my power to see you achieve it."

Mary climbed from her bath and began to dry herself. A week had passed since that horrifying night, and she'd had not a single vision. She grew more relieved with every passing day, and was becoming certain that Brother Justin was right. This IS where she belonged. As she brushed her hair, she thought of how kind he had been as he guided her towards bettering herself.

She began collecting her clothes from the bench by the door, and had just put on her skirt when it swung open, nearly hitting her in the face. She escaped it by inches, and stood for a shocked moment, trapped behind it. Just as she opened her mouth to exclaim, a flash of black caught her eye. Her words stuck in her throat as the door closed, and there stood Brother Justin with his back to her, towel draped over his arm. He was already unbuttoning his cassock. She stood transfixed on her vision of him in the mirror, as more and more pale skin was exposed. It was then she got a glimpse of something black scrawled on his chest, barely visible. Did he have a tattoo? She thought only savages from the islands had tattoos.

It took a moment before she realized he had stopped undressing. She looked up to his reflected face and was met with his deep, intense eyes. They locked with hers, and she stood stone still, like a frightened doe. Her heart stopped beating all together. He turned to face her, his robe billowing. It was only when she felt the burst of air against her naked body, that she remembered her attire. She snatched up her under-blouse and did her very best to shield her breasts from sight.

"When I asked you to draw a bath, I meant for me, Mary. Not for yourself."

"I'm sorry, Brother." She could honestly not remember him asking her to draw a bath. "I... must have forgotten. It won't happen again."

"Such a willful girl. And no, it had better not." She bowed her head, turning an even deeper shade of scarlet.

"Might you excuse me so that I may finish dressing?" She asked, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. His brow furrowed.

"Are you embarrassed to be naked in front of me?" He asked, taking a step towards her. His voice carried a mixture of irritation and amusement. She took a step back, re-adjusting her painfully small piece of cloth.

"Very much so. " She squeaked. There it was again; that infuriating, shameful moisture between her legs. In her mind, she thanked the Lord that she had donned her skirt, hiding her glistening discomposure. "Shouldn't I be?" Brother Justin shook his head in disappointment and motioned to the bench.

"Sit."

She did not want to sit. She wanted to run; far, far away. And yet her legs moved without her permission. And so she sat, while her head screamed not to. He approached, one painfully slow step at a time, and grasped a corner of her silk blouse. She clutched it tighter. "Embarrassment. Vanity. These are the children of Pride, Mary." He scorned. "_Humility_ is the absence of it." He lifted her chin to meet his stare with his other hand. She seemed completely unable to break away from it. "Let go." he whispered. Her grip began to loosen, and she felt the fabric slipping through her fingers. "Pride tells you that no one is worthy of seeing the endowments God has blessed you with. Banish your sinful pride, Mary."

Was this really happening? Or was this another one of her daydreams? Surely she would wake up and find herself somewhere else entirely.

Blouse in hand, he walked away from her. She crossed her arms to cover herself. He picked up the chair beside the tub and sat down directly in front of her. "You are a gift to me; and I WILL save you from yourself." He seemed to study her for a moment, before making a sweeping gesture; and there was nothing she could do to stop her arms from unfurling and resting on her thighs. "There. That's better already."

"Please Brother, let me dress! I will be better, I swear it!"

"And still you fight me while I try and help you! If you would only succumb to your humility, you would be all the more beautiful for it in the eyes of our Lord!" She realized with an ever-growing horror that she was not waking. Her heart was beating so furiously in her chest, she was sure it would break free. "Show me your humility, Mary." His voice began to swell again, sending tremors coursing through her. Every one of his words sent her farther into a panic. And yet the spreading warmth between her legs grew with a constant persistence.

"Do it." He commanded. "Now." His tone was grave. "Show me that you want to be better." She looked at him, frightened and confused.

"H-How?" She stammered.

"Lift your skirt... and show me your humility." Her blood ran cold in her veins, and her body froze along with it. Her conscious mind screamed to wake. But this was real; very real. She waited, second after second, hoping whatever willpower had assisted before would help her again. But it did not. She was left to obey his commands of her own volition. At a snails pace, she reached down with a shaking hand and grabbed hold of the edge of her skirt. All the while, she held his gaze and pleaded.

"Please, Brother..." Her voice trembled as much as her hands. "do not ask this of me."

"I have granted that request once already, Mary. You can only give a child what they desire so many times before you risk what is truly best for them. Now show me." Obediently, she began to raise her hem. It crept above her knees. She hesitated again, mortified to think of what he would say when he saw the slick, shining proof of her depravity dripping from her. But she continued, until her skirt was gathered around her waist and she was exposed.

He stared at her for what seemed an eternity, his mouth open ever-so-slightly, until he uttered a single, gravelly word. "More" He said, and motioned for her to spread her legs.

"Brother, I can't-"

"MORE!" He barked, and reluctantly she began to open herself to him. He turned his gaze from her eyes to her innermost sex. Only then was she free to hide her face in her shoulder. "Is this what you were so prideful to hide from me, Mary?" He brought the chair closer, his knees between hers, and drew a finger up her shimmering thigh. "The entire time I have been trying to turn you to the path of righteousness, you have been so insolent as to hide your wickedness from me." He chastened. "This is precisely what I was talking about." He took her face in his hand, fingers digging into her cheeks as he forced her to look at him. His words were surprisingly gentle, but with an undertone of severity that made her shake ever harder. "If your mind weaves such lustful thoughts about a _Man of God_... What chance would you have in the outside world? How long do you think it would have been before you fell to eternal damnation?"

"I did not intend to deceive you!" She pleaded "With all my heart, I swear it! I wish only to serve you and to serve God." The firm grip on her cheeks softened.

"Promise me then. Promise that you will never again hide from me." He urged, looking at her with an intensity that made her feel as small as a bug. "Swear it."

"I swear it" She stammered without hesitation, and he unleashed her scarlet cheeks.

"That's my girl" He cooed, and began to stroke Mary's hair. With a hand on the back of her head, Brother Justin leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. She welcomed his affectionate touch, overjoyed to no longer be the subject of his wrath. Her lesson was surely complete now.

But in one startlingly swift motion, he opened his legs, his knees spreading her thighs as far as they could go; and dove his hand between them. Before she even had time to react, He trailed his middle finger from the cleft of her butt to the opening of her labia. "This is for your own good" He said, hesitating at her entrance for a moment, before driving his finger so deep inside her that his palm slapped against her clitoris. She cried out, feeling for the first time what it meant to be penetrated.

"Is this what you have secretly ached for?" He questioned, moving his finger inside her. The warmth within her spread like wildfire. "Do not lie to me, Mary. Is it?" He pulled the thick digit out and then drove it back in.

"Y-Yes" she huffed as he probed her without mercy. She could feel every knuckle as it slid in and out unrelenting. Then a second finger was added to the first, and together they thrust past her entrance again. They stretched her farther open than she ever thought possible. His fingers worked within her, and the violation of her innocence was nearly too much for her to bear. Surely she would explode. "Please... Sir please..." She begged through heaving breaths, with no idea whether she was begging him to stop, or to continue. He did not stop: Instead, he continued to toy with her, his pace hastening as he pushed deep inside, his palm smacking against her tingling clit. She moaned softly, her hips moving involuntarily against his hand as it coaxed her towards the edge of release.

The Reverend pulled her mouth to his in a ravenous kiss, forcing his tongue past her lips. She met it with her own. He deepened their kiss as their tongues danced, as if he meant to steal the very breath from her lungs. He slid his fingers from her, and she couldn't help but whine into his mouth at the sudden loss. He broke their feverish embrace, pulling back a bit and studying her flushed face. His hand rose from between her legs and to her mouth, rubbing his glistening fingers across her lips. She sat frozen, bewildered by his act. The hint of a smile crossed his features: as if he relished the look of shock in her eyes. And in an especially perverse gesture, he drug the length of his tongue over her lips like an animal, tasting the juices there. The full realization of how wrong this was flooded over her, leaving her reeling.

"... no..." She panted.

"You are the most treasured of my flock, Mary." Brother Justin said huskily, and rose from his chair. "And I think it is time that you realized the Lord's greater plan for you." He looked massive as he towered over her, and her heart filled with a terrible, foreshadowing dread.

"We mustn't do this!" She squeaked, trying to find her feet. Grasping her shoulders, he pushed her right back down. He reached up and began to unbutton his robe. "Let me be, Brother!" She pleaded. The top of his robe fell aside, revealing his smooth pectorals, and the branches of a tree tattooed across them. "I- I have never known a man. Please, leave me with that." His hands stopped in their tracks. This was her beloved, pious Brother Justin: she refused to believe that he would knowingly deflower her.

His hands fell from his eyelets, and she let out a sigh of relief. He seemed to hesitate; before wrapping his arms around her and hugging her face to his naked chest. With a gentle caress, he smoothed her hair.

"My poor, dear girl." He said softly. "You must be so frightened." His fingers ran through her tresses. She nodded into his breast, his cool skin soothing her glowing face. "But you must understand... the Lord Almighty has delivered you to me as a gift." He spoke as if explaining the simplest of things to a toddler. "You WILL know me, child." He continued, even as her body went rigid beneath him. "You will forfeit your innocence to me for the good of my cause, and be honored: for to lay with me is to lay with God." Tears welled in her eyes as she listened to his words. "You, my sweet Mary, will be my sacrificial lamb." She looked up to his face, unwilling to believe this was her reverent Pastor. He looked down at her with a smile, and eyes black as night.

She recoiled from his embrace, wondering at what point she had lapsed into delusion. Clamoring to get out of his reach, her hand was inches from the door when he seized the waist of her skirt. In one violent yank, she flew back in the middle of the room. He descended on her like a massive shadow. She did her best to crawl away, tripping over the remnants of her gown; but in an instant, he snatched her up by the hair. She yelped in pain as he dragged her to the wall by it, and yanked her to her knees.

Again he grabbed at the fabric around her legs. She tried desperately to wrestle it from his grasp, and it shredded between them with a disheartening sound. He stepped into her and she pounded on his legs with her little fists, but it only made her feel pitifully small against his colossal form. He did nothing to stop her, letting her continue her attack, and simply chuckled. She was like a mouse, caught by the tail in the paws of a great cat.

"Be still." He sneered, capturing her wrists in one of his mighty hands, and held them as if she weren't struggling at all. He scooped up a piece of tattered cloth, wrapping it around them, binding them together. The other end he threw over a pipe, far above her head. He pulled on it, stretching her body so taut that her knees nearly left the ground, and tied it off. He stepped away and took in the sight of her as she dangled there, naked. Helpless. He took a lusty breath, and with a snarl, tore at his cassock. Buttons flew in every direction as it fell from his hips.

Tears spilled over her lids. She could not wrench her eyes from his hand, as it stroked up along the hardness beneath his breaches. As he unbuttoned the flap, a sigh of relief passed his lips. He freed his shaft from its bindings, and the sheer size of it made her tremble anew.

"Open your mouth" he commanded, stepping so close she could smell the sweat that glistened on his abdomen. She bared her lips together defiantly, and he seized her hair once again, compelling her to look up at him. "Open it!" He bellowed. When she still did not comply, he backhanded her across the cheek. Hard. Spots danced before her eyes. Before she could even see straight, he raised his hand to her again. She unclenched her jaw, opening herself to him, desperate to avoid being struck a second time. The head of his penis pressed against her mouth, precum moistening her lips. He rubbed it between them, threatening with the slightest pressure. "Wider" He demanded. Tears sparkled on her lashes as she complied. He waisted not a moment, sliding her mouth onto him, pushing the tip of of his dick past her lips. He let out a lofty breath, and drove it deeper into her mouth. The girth of it barely fit, stretching her jaw to its maximum. He began to thrust with a slow deliberation. With every push, her tongue moved, trying to keep it from making her gag. This only seemed to satisfy him more, his eyes closing in ecstasy. His hands worked in unison with his hips, forcing her to slide up and down his shaft. As his breathing became more shallow, his assault on her mouth grew more fervent. His head fell back, and every movement seemed to make his member swell even larger. She could feel it pulsing, growing ever harder, until it felt like steel against her throat...

"No!" Panted Brother Justin, and pulled her off. "...Not yet" In a blur, he stripped off his pants and knelt in front of her, pushing his thighs to hers. His rod, wet with her own saliva, pressed against her stomach. "You will learn to enjoy this." He said, re-positioning it between her legs, rubbing it against her sex. It moved with ease, lubricated with her own fluids, and she whimpered. The mocking grin returned to his face. "Or perhaps you already do." She shook her her head vigorously; half in denial, half an attempt to escape his taunting scrutiny.

"No more! I won't tell anyone of this, I promise!" She babbled. "Have mercy on me! Justin, please!" She had barely spoken her last word, when a ball of cloth was shoved unceremoniously in her mouth. A second was pulled between her lips and tied at the back of her head. She was left with nothing to do but look imploringly into his ebony eyes and snivel.

"Alexi" He said, and pulled her on to his lap, sliding farther beneath her until her legs straddled his. He grabbed her hips, maneuvering them until she could feel the head of his cock, just barely parting her wet slit. Never before had she felt so utterly exposed. "My name... is Alexi"

He held her gaze, watching as confusion battled with lust, and lust battled with terror. And as a tear rolled down her cheek, he propelled her hips down to meet his, thrusting himself deep within her. She screamed into her gag as he filled her nearly beyond capacity, and felt something tearing away inside her. She had only seconds to recover before he lifted her up again, and pushed her back down without mercy. She tugged frantically at the cords that held her, praying they would give way; but no such miracle happened. He breathed heavily into her ear as he began his rhythmic strokes. The sensation was too much for her. Black spots filled her vision, as if she had been struck again. She could feel every vein of his shaft as he forced it in and out. When he spoke next, she recognized the words from Revelations.

"I will shew unto thee the judgement of the Great Whore that sitteth upon many waters..." He growled, rocking inside her. She hardly noticed the bruises on her wrists as she fought her bonds; his punishing blows exhausting her will to fight. "..with whom the Kings of the Earth have fornicated..." His plunges became more wanton, penetrating even farther inside her pink flesh. She cried out, unable to separate the pleasure from the overwhelming pain. "...the inhabitants of the earth had been made drunk with the wine of her fornication..." With the last of her strength, she gave a mighty tug: and the pipe to which she was bound fractured with a resounding 'crack'. Water sprayed forth from it, raining down upon their heads. But Alexi was not phased. He continued as he thrust into her, unyielding, forcing her to accept him. "... and I saw the woman, drunken with the blood of saints, and with the blood of the martyrs of Jesus..." As he spoke, she watched the water turn to crimson; and realized with unbearable horror that it had become a shower of blood. It ran down their faces, their bodies, lubricating his every thrust. A blood-curdling scream rose from her throat. Alexi's voice had lowered to a snarl. "... and when I saw her, I _wondered_ with great admiration."

Her panic seemed to excite him even more, his shaft throbbing as he ravished her. He sighed in her ear, "Embrace your rapture, Mary." At his command, the disgraceful fire awakened in the pit of her stomach renewed. He uttered a breathy laugh; blood running down his face, his pitch-dark eyes filled with a cruel joy. "You have sacrificed your most precious of virtues to me." He said, ignoring her fresh tide of sobs; the brutal pumping of his hips adding emphasis to his words. The searing desire built with every thrust, wave after unstoppable wave, until it erupted within her. Ecstasy shot like electricity up her spine, dominating every fiber of her being. She cried out again, overcome with the intensity of it.

"You will become my beloved Whore of Babylon, Mary..." His husky breaths rang in her ears as he rammed into her with a beastly strength; until she was sure she would split in two. "... and bring the great Kings of this world to my feet with the sweet wines of your splendor." He wrapped his hands like a vice around her throat, using it to pull her against him ever faster. Struggling for breath, she could feel his cock begin to throb inside her once again. His grunting breaths grew more uneven as he savaged her. And when the blackness began to devour the world, she heard a carnal roar; and felt him erupt in the depths of her sex. That was the last thing she remembered.

She woke with a jolt to the sunlight once again dancing across her eyelids. And for the second time, found herself unexpectedly in the comfort of her very own bed. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief. What a terrifying nightmare. That was by far her most vivid yet. But that's all it was: a dream. Thank God.

She moved to sit upright, but her leg was yanked back into place. As she cast off her covers, her mind nearly shattered. She beheld the shackle around her ankle, and realized with unimaginable horror that this time... It was a nightmare from which she would never wake.


End file.
